


You're Breaking My Nap Time Rule

by LuciferShipsIt



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Drabble, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-12
Updated: 2014-04-12
Packaged: 2018-01-19 01:11:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1449772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuciferShipsIt/pseuds/LuciferShipsIt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And fucking hell, Dean had to stop showing Castiel movies because the things he learned from them were getting ridiculous. Dean was pretty sure his angel learned that tone from Professor Umbridge, which resulted in Dean imagining Castiel in her clothes. Oh, he shouldn't laugh.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're Breaking My Nap Time Rule

**Author's Note:**

> Based on this adorable comic!! - http://linneart.tumblr.com/post/71781992264

People really do seem to change their minds, because it was Sam who Tracy Bell called to help her on a Rugaru case. And screw freeing Lucifer out of the cage; apparently she heard a lot about what a brilliant hunter he was because she specifically asked for Sam over the phone.  
And Dean didn't give a damn, really, he was fine with it. It wasn't like he was bored and deprived of any interesting cases, and he definitely wasn't jealous of Sam.  
Nope. Dean couldn't care less. That was if he wasn't stuck now on research duty. Everything the Men of Letters had about Rugarus, because apparently those smartasses figured away to control the change. A steady diet of red meat, apparently, made you look and act less like a scary flesh eating monster, which Dean had to admit, made their lives much easier.  
Only now he was absolutely exhausted. Fourteen hours of research later – with no help from Castiel, of course, because the angel was too busy reading Lord of the Flies, the dumbass – and Dean didn't even make it to bed.  
It wasn't that he didn't like his bed, he loved it, especially when Castiel was beside him quietly reading and running his hand through his hair, but if Dean wanted to go to bed he'd have to put the books back first, and that meant he'd have to stand up and carry them, and that was just outrageous.  
Dean was happily napping for a couple of hours now when he felt the tickle of warm breath on his cheek, and hair brushing his forehead. Then came the whisper. "Dean?" For someone who had lived for millennias, Castiel couldn't whisper to save his life.  
Dean bit the inside of his cheek and shifted his head a little in his arms, but his green eyes remained closed. He'll be damned if he was getting up now. "Go make your own sandwich, Cas, you're not stupid." He muttered sleepily and closed his eyes tighter.  
He could hear the ex-angel huff then feet shuffling, and he could only hope that maybe Castiel was finally listening to him. The man was like a kid when it came to this. "But your sandwiches are the best." He'd say with a pout that shouldn't suit a thirty-something year old vessel, but somehow it did. Dean later found out that Castiel liked his sandwiches better because Dean had a habit of getting peanut butter on his fingers, and Castiel would clean them up. It was both adorable and gross.  
His hopes were crashed by a sing-song voice from behind him. "Deeeean!" And fucking hell, Dean had to stop showing Castiel movies because the things he learned from them were getting ridiculous. Dean was pretty sure his angel learned that tone from Professor Umbridge, which resulted in Dean imagining Castiel in her clothes. Oh, he shouldn't laugh.  
"Cas, I'm sleeping!" The Winchester grumbled instead. As if Castiel would remember the 'no talking when I sleep' rule. When had they even set that, four years ago? Then again, Dean thought with a bitter smile, Castiel was never one to follow rules.  
If Dean would have opened his eyes now he would've seen Castiel's frown as he thought of the next step in his plan, which was actually the step as before: getting Dean's attention.  
The hunter-in-training kneeled behind Dean's chair then rested his head on the sleeping man's shoulder. "Dean?" He quietly ask, eyes open with curiosity as one hand came up, hesitating between poking Dean's arm or pulling back.  
Dean didn't bother giving a reply this time, only let out a wordless grumble before burying his face further into his arms with a scowl.  
The next thing he knew, books were being moved away from the table and he could hear them being tucked into place. Dean almost looked up in surprise, a thank you on the tip of his tongue before he heard a small thump, then Castiel's voice came from the top of the table. Of fucking course.  
"Dean. Dean. Dean. Dean. Dean." The former angel continued repeating like a broken record in a monotone voice, legs crossed and hands in his lap as he stared at the sleeping Winchester.  
Finally, Dean decided to give in. His head shot up and he turned to Castiel, a half glare on his face. "What is it?" He snapped. It wasn't like he was asking for much, was he? Just a short nap after long hours of work – work Castiel hadn't even been a part of, his mind bitterly supplied.  
Castiel blinked at him and without altering his expression, uttered three words that never failed to make Dean's face flush red. "I love you."  
As expected, Dean burned red and dropped his head into his hands again, a loud groan escaping him. Oh, he was going to kill Castiel.


End file.
